I went to our country house in secret, without telling my husband, to find out what he was doing there: when I opened the door, I was overwhelmed with real horror
My husband Mark and I have a small house in the countryside. We used to go there almost every weekend. We planted flowers, worked in the garden, grilled meat, and simply relaxed away from the city and the noise.
But at some point, everything changed. Mark began constantly refusing to go. One time it was urgent work, another time he was tired, had a headache, or said, “maybe another time.” At first, I didn’t see anything strange in that.
Until one day, the neighbor from the village called me.
“Listen,” she said casually, “I saw your husband near the house yesterday.”
I didn’t even understand at first what she meant.
“You must be mistaken,” I replied. “He was at work all day.”
“No, I’m sure. He came out of the house and was carrying things from the car for a long time,” she said calmly.
I hung up, but everything inside me tightened. The worst thoughts immediately started creeping into my mind. Why was he there and didn’t tell me? Why was he hiding those trips? And most importantly — what exactly was he doing there?
The following weekend, Mark once again said he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Maybe I’ll go alone then, get some fresh air,” I suggested carefully.
He suddenly tensed up.
“No,” he said too quickly. “I don’t want you going there. I’ll feel calmer if you stay home.”
And at that very moment, I understood everything. If there was nothing strange there, he wouldn’t forbid me. When Mark left the house, I decided to follow him. He got into his car and drove toward the village.
I waited a little and drove after him.
As I approached the house, I could feel my heart pounding. My hands were shaking, and I felt like I was doing something terrible, but I couldn’t stop anymore. I walked up to the door, took a deep breath, and went inside.
The house was full of electronics. Brand-new TVs, laptops, tablets, cameras, tools still in their packaging. In the corners were bags filled with jewelry, watches, chains, and earrings. On the table and in the drawers were stacks of cash. There was so much of it that my knees nearly gave out.
It didn’t look like a hobby, a business, or random accumulation. It looked like a storage warehouse.
I didn’t make a scene. I decided to speak to my husband directly. When Mark returned, I simply asked:
“Explain to me what all this is.”
At first, he tried to joke it off. Then he said they were “temporay things” and that I didn’t understand anything. But when I told him I had seen everything with my own eyes, he fell silent.
And then he told me the truth.
It turned out Mark had been fired almost two years earlier. He hadn’t told anyone. At first, he tried to find a new job. Then he started taking out loans. And when the money ran out, he made a choice that changed everything.
For the past two years, he had been breaking into houses. He chose empty properties, watched people, went in at night, and took everything valuable. He sold some of it immediately, and stored the rest in our country house to sell gradually without attracting attention.
I looked at the man I had been living with and didn’t recognize him anymore. The house I believed was safe turned out to be a storage place for stolen goods. And the person I trusted was living a double life, risking his freedom every single day.
In that moment, I realized: it would have been better if he had really had a mistress. Because this truth was far more terrifying.
